Project 922114
by Mimzay-Peach
Summary: Dr. Yao Wang is given a pretty simple task. Work on Project 922114. Teach it to be human. Don't tell anyone. Sounds simple, right? Oh, it's much harder than you'd think... AU
1. Chapter 1

A/N: After much time of no writing, I have decided to actually write. And, as usual, this fic is In Progress. Unusually, though, I do have a completed fic that I'm uploading once I format it. :) Anyway, this is my...second Hetalia fic. It's an AU. There are many pairings, including USUK, SKHK, Japan/Taiwan, Italy/Germany, and many others. Though, obviously the main pairing is Rochu. If you dislike it, I would suggest running away and quickly.

That being said, I hope you all enjoy! Reviews are always appreciated ^_^

* * *

Yao looked down at the piece of paper in his hand, then up at the building in front of him. A hurried businessman ran into him, apologizing quickly but profusely as he continued running. Yao, used to the hustle and bustle of large cities, shrugged and said, "It's all right." Granted, the man didn't hear him, but it was still polite to answer. He looked back up at the building and sighed, blowing a piece of hair out of his face.

With a deep inhale and a firm hand on his briefcase, he walked up to the doors and entered. The first thing he noticed was that everything was crisp, clean, and white. A woman was behind a counter, looking down at a computer and occasionally typing into it. Yao smiled slightly and walked up to her. She didn't look up.

Yao cleared his throat. The woman looked up, moving a headset to the side and saying, from what Yao could understand, "Be right back, need to actually work." Then she closed something on her computer and looked up, smiling. "Hello, sir," she said. "How can I help you?"

"I have an appointment with Kiku Honda," Yao said, handing her the piece of paper in his hand. She glanced over it and nodded slowly. "Yao Wang?" she asked. Yao nodded. "Okay," the woman muttered, writing something on the paper.

"Oh, I'll need some proof—I trust you brought identification?"

"All forms of it."

The woman looked up from the paper to find a variety of IDs and records spread across the counter. She reached over and picked one up. "…Is…this a secondary school ID card?"

"…I like to be efficient."

The woman shrugged. "That explains why he picked you," she muttered, finishing up her writing. "You can put all that away, now. Follow me."

Yao packed up all of his stuff and organized it back in his briefcase. He followed the woman down a hallway, just as crisp as the foyer. He saw tired looking men and women in offices, some looking up from their work momentarily before going back to it.

"I'm Mei Feng," the woman said.

"Hm?"

Mei turned to him. "I'm Mr. Honda's assistant. He's very particular about who he hires, so…"

"Oh, we're lucky, then?"

Mei grinned and started walking again. "Yes, very lucky. You especially."

"How so?"

"Well, Mr. Honda asked for you specifically, didn't he?"

Yao made a small dismissing gesture. "I was one of his professors when he went to university. His parents were friends of mine—you know how it is."

Mei let out a small chuckle. "Yes, of course," she said, walking into an elevator. Yao walked in after her. Mei took a key out of her shirt pocket and put it into a keyhole in the elevator. She pushed the button with a "B" on it and Yao cleared his throat. "So, we're going to the basement?"

"It's where Mr. Honda told me to take you."

Yao nodded slowly. "Okay. Erm…do you have any idea why he called me? Aside from our being best friends, like really, we were the best of friends—"

"No idea. You'll have to ask him yourself."

Yao narrowed his eyes at Mei, who looked straight ahead. He nodded. "Okay…"

The elevator stopped and the doors opened to a dark hallway, just as crisp as the upstairs hallways, but far more creepy. Mei continued down the hallway.

They came across a door with a keypad next to it. Mei typed in a code, pressed her thumb to an identifier, pressed her face to an eye scan, then inserted another key into the door. When it opened, Yao blinked at her. She shrugged. "It's a very important project."

They walked into another hallway, which led to the flight of stairs that led into the workroom Kiku was in. Yao looked around. There were firm glass walls everywhere, as well as medical sculptures and scans of human anatomy. Yao raised an eyebrow at them and continued to the office at the end. Mei knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for an answer. Yao saw Kiku hovering over what looked to be a surgical table with safety goggles on his face and a pad of paper in one hand. He looked at the item on the table, then took down a note.

"Mr. Honda?"

Kiku looked up and took off the goggles, setting the paper on the table.

Yao stared over Mei at the table, trying to make out what was on it. "Is…is that a person?"

"Yao," Kiku said, bowing slightly. Yao bowed in return. "I'm glad to see that you accepted my offer."

Yao grinned. "Of course I did! You obviously invited me because we're best friends…right? Practically brothers!" He looked at Mei. "I taught him everything he knows…"

There was a long pause before Kiku cleared his throat.

"Uh….right," he said, as Mei stifled a giggle. "I actually invited you BECAUSE you taught me all you know—and I need more."

Yao tilted his head to the side, confused. "I don't understand."

"Perhaps it would be better if we spoke in my office?" Kiku said, pushing everyone out of the room and closing the door. He motioned to the small room beside it and Yao entered. Mei went to a file cabinet in the corner and Kiku sat behind his desk, motioning for Yao to sit.

"Now, my project is confidential and—"

"I don't understand," Yao said, again.

"…I…haven't explained anything yet."

"You took a good five minutes to agree with me! That we were brothers!"

"We aren't brothers."

"We practically were!"

"But we aren't," Kiku said, giving Yao a tired look. "Can we focus on the matter at hand?"

Yao crossed his arms, giving Kiku a pouty look before nodding. "Fine."

Mei snorted, then apologized.

Kiku shot her a look. "Yao…my project is confidential…"

Yao nodded.

"And that's why I invited you here…"

Yao nodded again.

"Because you're one of the best scientific minds of our time…"

Yao laughed modestly. "You're so nice." He turned to Mei. "Isn't he nice to me?"

"And I started a project with A.I. that I'd like you to look at…"

Yao nodded then stopped. "Wait…artificial intelligence?"

Kiku stood. "What I'm working on…is a robot that can mimic human emotion and thought…"

Yao blinked. He laughed. "That's ridiculous—how do you plan to go about that?"

"That's why I need your help."

Yao frowned. "So…you want me to…"

"Help me create a totally conscious, humanoid robot."

"Why?" Yao whispered.

"Because it would be an incredible breakthrough in robotics."

Yao shook his head. "This is…something that no one has ever successfully completed—"

"But you've studied it."

"Well, I—"

"You're the one who taught this to me. You and my parents theorized on robotics."

Yao stammered for a moment, looking to Mei for an answer. She was poking through the file cabinets.

Yao sighed. "I just theorized that it was possible—I never actually thought that it would HAPPEN. Not to mention it has to be an…extremely expensive project…"

"Well, I just happen to be the heir to the largest robotics manufacturing company in the world…"

Yao sighed again. Mei finally got the file out of the cabinet and gave it to Yao, who looked down at it without opening it. Kiku nodded at him. "This project…could bring your theories to life…"

Yao stared at the file.

Kiku held out his hand. "Do you agree?"

Yao looked up at Kiku's hand. He smiled slightly and took it. "Well…how can I deny my brother anything?"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Chapter Two :D As usual, I hope y'all enjoy! Reviews are always appreciated ^_^

Disclaimer: DO NOT OWN...well...okay, I own the STORY. But not the characters...

* * *

"This is Project 622114."

"What happened to the other 622,113?"

Kiku raised an eyebrow at Yao. Yao's lips twitched. "It…I was joking…I don't think that you actually…" he trailed off at Kiku's look.

"Do you want to see him or not?"

"Him?"

"The project…"

"It's a 'he'? Who exactly is he supposed to be?"

Kiku took the sheet covering the figure on the table off.

On the table was a man—or at least it looked like a man. One arm lacked any shell and showed the mechanics beneath it. His abdomen was open, showing intricate circuitry.

Yao's eyes widened. He put down the file and leaned over the figure. "We're…establishing an original personality…giving him his own likes and dislikes…"

"H…He looks so real," he said, poking the figure's face. Yao let out a disbelieving laugh. "You…were always amazing with shells…Oh, wow…"

Kiku patted the figure on the head, then pushed at his neck. A small compartment opened. Yao looked up. "It's where I put his on and off switches," Kiku explained. "Are you ready to meet him?"

Yao nodded. "Uhm…sure."

Kiku pushed the switch.

The figure's eyes popped open with a small whir. He blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes.

"Yao…meet Project 622114," said Kiku as the figure stared at Yao.

"Uh…hello," Yao tested, waving slightly. The figure blinked, then looked at his hand and raised it, waving back. Yao's eyes went wide. "Wow."

"I'll leave you two alone, then. Be sure to read the file—I'm sure you can find a way to improve him," Kiku said as he left the room. Yao looked out at the door before clearing his throat and looking back at the figure. He smiled slightly and then started reading the file. He felt the robot staring at him, so he looked up.

"So," he started awkwardly. He choked on his words and laughed. "Oh, this is stupid. I'm talking to a robot."

"Ivan," said the figure. Yao stopped laughing, his smile turning into a look of fear. "W-What…did you just...?"

"My name," said the figure. "Is Ivan." He smiled. "And you must be my new friend…"

"W-Wang Yao—erm—Yao Wang—erm...I…don't even…," Yao stammered. "Are…how…"

"It's nice to meet you, ," Ivan said, grinning. Looking down, he giggled nervously and closed his abdomen. He sat up and Yao took a step back. "It gets rather lonely down here…"

Yao let out a choked yell.

Ivan frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Fine. Just fine," Yao squeaked. He coughed and hesitantly walked back to the table, picking up the file before running back to the wall. "So," he said, voice shaking as he looked through the file. "W-what's that accent?"

Ivan smiled. "I'm Russian."

Yao laughed manically. "Oh, of course you are. That makes sense."

"Are you sure you are all right?"

"Oh," Yao said, staring intently at the file—but not reading the words. "I am positive. Thank you for asking."

"You are welcome."

Yao felt dizzy. "Ugh…i-is there a chair I can…sit in?"

"I can get it!" Ivan said, merrily, starting to get off the table.

"NO!" Yao shrieked, holding his hand out. Ivan stopped. "Just," Yao said, looking over at the chair in the opposite corner of the room. "Just stay right there….I'll…get it…"

Yao pushed himself to the wall, closing his eyes and inching his way to the corner. However, Ivan thought that it was taking far too long and so hopped off the table anyway. He pushed it to Yao, who stopped it with his stomach and a loud, "ACK!" sound. Ivan sat back on the table, opening and closing his hands. Yao sat down in the chair, shaking slightly. He rolled over to the table.

"You know," Ivan said, tilting his head to the side. "Mr. Honda said that you had dealt with…robots…before?"

Yao cleared his throat. "O-Only in theory…I've never…communicated with…one…"

"Then this is a fun experience for both of us, yes?" Ivan cried. "Oh! Would you like to know what I like?"

Yao looked up at Ivan, who was grinning widely. Yao nodded slowly. "Of course I would, Ivan…b-but not right now…right now, I need to…g-go over your…file…"

Ivan frowned. "Oh…okay."

Yao swallowed. 'He's like a child,' he thought. "S-So…how about….you go to sleep for a while…a-and…I'll wake you up…when I finish?"

Ivan smiled again and laid down. Yao reached over Ivan's body to his neck and gulped, pushing the side compartment. Ivan stared at him.

"….I am glad you're my new friend, ," he whispered before Yao pushed the off button.

Yao closed the panel and stared at Ivan's face for a moment before stepping back to the wall again, file held to his chest.

"What have I gotten myself into?" he asked aloud.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks so much for the kind reviews and many watches+favs :D They make me smile and keep me motivated! Here's chapter three! Disclaimers are obvious-DO NOT OWN. XDD

If you see any grammatical or spelling errors, please let me know :) Hopefully there are none, though ._.;;;

* * *

Yao banged on Kiku's office door.

"Come in."

Yao burst through, panting. "He can talk."

Kiku blinked. "Yes, he can," he said, smiling. "Amazing, isn't it?"

Yao's jaw dropped. "I can't…what do you need ME for? You've already done what I theorized!"

"He needs to learn how to be a human, Yao. I can't let him out until he learns how to interact with others."

Yao crossed his arms. "Okay, so I'm a babysitter. And?"

Kiku sighed. "And I want to try to make him completely human."

"Like a replacement?"

"Somewhat."

"This is ridiculous," Yao sighed, sitting down and putting his head in his hands.

"I'm a man of science, Yao."

Yao stood again, pointing at the file. "And THESE are MY notes that you used to create Ivan!"

"Ivan?"

Yao blinked. "That's his name…isn't it?"

Kiku frowned. "I didn't give him a name." He thought for a moment. "He's more intelligent than I thought…" He shook his head. "Anyway, he's still imperfect."

"He can TALK. He offered to get me a chair!"

"Yes. But he has no sense of humanity, nor does he have an actual conscience."

"So he…"

"Is a child."

Yao nodded. "Who needs to be cared for…" he nodded again. "Okay. I…understand. I'll try to find some way to…improve him. If I need to, I'll change some of his circuitry."

* * *

Yao stared at Ivan. After looking over his file, he understood the basic science behind his creation, as well as the person the robot was trying to emulate. With a heavy sigh, he pushed the on button.

Ivan's eyes snapped open. He saw Yao and grinned. "Hello, ," he said.

"Hi," Yao replied, sitting down. "So, Ivan, can we talk?"

Ivan sat up and nodded quickly. "I'd love to talk to you. "

"First off, I'm sorry for freaking out earlier," Yao muttered, clearing his throat. "It was rude."

"It is no trouble as long as you are my friend now. So, what would you like to know?"

"Well," Yao said, opening the file and resting it on his leg. He grabbed some glasses from his coat and put them on. "I have information on your circuitry, the emotions you've been programmed with, et cetera."

Ivan nodded. "But?"

"I don't understand how you're powered. Are you plugged in? Battery power? I didn't see anything in the file."

"Oh!" Ivan exclaimed, hopping off of the table and running to a cupboard in the corner. He opened it and took out a vodka bottle. "I am fueled by vodka."

Yao blinked with a manic smile on his face. He laughed. "Y-You're joking, right?"

"Why would I be joking?"

"It's just…you're programmed to be…Russian…a-and you…drink…vodka…to power yourself?"

"Mr. Honda told me that it would make me less conspicuous to the general public."

Yao frowned. "But he told me that you were a confidential project."

Ivan giggled. "Only until I learn to make friends, da?"

"Erm. Da," Yao replied, making a note on his file. "So, who else do you know?"

Ivan thought, looking up and biting his—extremely realistic, oh my god, thought Yao—lip. "I know…Mr. Honda," he thought more. "And Mei." He thought more and smiled. "And you, ."

Yao nodded. "All right," Yao said, clearing his throat. He closed the file.  
"Now, to be clear, I work with engineering. I'm a professor."

"Oh, do you teach? I want to go to school, but Mr. Honda says there would be no point—I can learn things instantly through upgrades."

"Yes, I teach. I taught Kiku—uh…Mr. Honda," Yao said, proudly.

Ivan tilted his head to the side. "Did you teach him how to make me?"

"Well, sort of," Yao said thoughtfully. "I'd studied A.I. before, but had never really pursued it."

"Do you like sunflowers?"

Yao blinked. "Sunflowers?"

"I love sunflowers. My one wish when I am allowed to leave is to lay in a field of sunflowers."

"Why's that?"

Ivan smiled. "They remind me of the sun. Of being warm. Of being real."

"Uh…Anyway, I'm not a therapist or anything, so it might be hard for me to…relate to you," Yao said.

"Is that all engineers or just you?" Ivan grinned.

Yao paused. "…Okay, so it's just me."

Ivan smiled. "I am looking quite forward to getting to know you, though. I am glad we are friends, ."

* * *

Yao munched at the fries in his bowl, looking more at Ivan's file, as well as his own notes. Arthur looked at him from over the bar. "You want another?"

Yao nodded. "I need it, trust me."

"Long first day, then?" Arthur asked, pouring another drink.

"You have no idea," Yao muttered, making a small note on the file.

"Y'know, I sure wish that I could have a drink after a long day of work," Arthur said, wiping at a mug. "But Alfred won't let me because the last time I got drunk, I crawled to his door crying about how I couldn't live without him and how much of an arse he was for leaving me."

"Alfred left you?"

"For Francis. One time." He wiped more furiously.

"Oh. Ouch," Yao muttered, taking a sip of his drink.

"You're telling me. But anyway, Alfred won't let me drink unless I'm under supervision now, which is stupid as we're together again, which means I won't have a door to crawl to unless it's my OWN door and that'd just be bloody mortifying, wouldn't it?" he wiped so hard that Yao was scared the mug would shatter.

"Uh—"

"But I don't see WHY I can't drink, because that'll never happen again. I'm perfectly fine and hold no grudge over that bloody fucking fiasco at all," Arthur snapped, slamming the mug down. He grinned. "Right?"

Yao blinked. "…Do you need to take a break?"

Arthur sniffed. "Naw, I'm fine."

"Good, because I'm supposed to be pouring out my soul to you—not the other way around."

"Piss off," Arthur scowled, walking to the other end of the bar. Yao snorted and took another sip of his drink. He turned a page in the file and looked over it.

He made a few more notes, then he nodded, closing up the file again. He chugged down the end of his drink and put down the mug. "I'm out," Yao called to Arthur.

"Be back tomorrow?" Arthur called back.

Yao picked up his coat and his file and shook his head. "I certainly hope not. Night, Arthur."

"Yeah, yeah..."

Yao tiredly tossed his coat over his chair and his tie followed. He carried the file to his room and put it on his desk, sighing slightly. He rolled his head from side to side and looked over at his bed—he needed sleep after the day he'd had.

He slinked over to it with a smile, flopped down on the pillows, let out a happy sigh, and closed his eyes.

"RIIIING RIIIING RIIIING!"

Yao's eyes snapped open. He looked over to his desk to see his cell phone ringing. "You…have got to be kidding me," he groaned, pushing himself up and grabbing the phone off the desk.

He looked at the name and groaned again, opening the phone. "Hello?"

"YAO!"

He held the phone away from his face with a grimace. "Yes? Hello, Yong Soo…"

"HOW'D IT GO?"

"It went…fine…it was…fine."

"Uh ohhhh," Yong Soo said. "You didn't get the job?"

"Of course I got the job."

"OH! Well, that's good!"

Yao heard some laughing in the background of the call, followed by a crash.

"What are you DOING, Yong Soo?"

"Just hanging out with some friends!"

"Is my brother with you?"

"WHAT?" Yong Soo yelled over some music.

"MY BROTHER!" Yao yelled back before clearing his throat. "My brother."

"Oh, yeah, he's right here. He says….'Hi, Yao…I'm happy Kiku gave you the job…don't work yourself to death…bye…'"

"Tell him I say—"

"Oh, and he says he wants his waffle maker back."

"Waffle—"

"Okay, so it's MY waffle maker..."

"Yong Soo-"

"Okay, well we just wanted to check up on you!"

"But Yong Soo, I—"

"BYE!"

Yao held the phone and stared at it. With a scoff, he put it back on the desk and flopped back into bed. After a good ten minutes of staring at the ceiling, he climbed under his covers and snuggled up. "I'm fine…Everything's…going to be fine," Yao muttered as he drifted off into sleep.

That night, he dreamt of a robot with a thick Russian accent and an odd love of sunflowers. And a waffle maker.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Holy cripes, this chapter was actually finished ages ago ;_; I'm so sorry. It's been a busy month OTL Well, to be honest, this is pure filler. But I had fun writing it, so I hope you all have fun reading it :) Chapter Five is in progress, but please forgive me if I'm a little slow. I've not given up on this fic, though :D I'm just a little slow :P Happy Easter, to y'all who celebrate it ^_^

Disclaimer: Do Not Own. Except the Story. Which is kind of important, I donno, maybe a little :D

* * *

"So," Yao said, leaning against the wall, staring Ivan down.

Ivan blinked back and smiled. "So?"

"Sunflowers?" Yao questioned, crossing his arms.

Ivan nodded. "I like them."

"Have you ever held one?" Yao asked, walking towards Ivan.

Ivan frowned and looked down. "Well…no…but I have seen them."

Yao grabbed a tool and motioned for Ivan to lay down on the table. He peeled open Ivan's shirt and then poked his stomach. Ivan looked around. Yao opened up his abdomen, looking at the circuitry.

"Where have you seen them, Ivan?"

"In pictures. They go through my mind all the time. Images of sunflowers…or of snow," Ivan exhaled. "I do not like snow. It makes me think of being cold."

Yao chuckled. "You don't have any nerve endings Ivan—you have no sensation of hot or cold." He poked at the circuitry, moving a wire over.

Ivan looked down. "You are not going to break me, are you, ?"

"No, Ivan, I'm not going to break you," Yao muttered, poking around another wire. He grabbed a screwdriver and put on safety goggles. He unscrewed one of the covers and carefully placed it to the side, poking around slightly before putting the screwdriver back down.

Ivan cleared his throat. "What do you like?"

Yao glanced up at him and Ivan responded with a smile and a wave. Yao sighed and went back to his work. Ivan continued to smile. Yao reached over to the computer and typed in a few numbers before picking up a cord attached to it and holding it over Ivan's abdomen.

"I'm going to give you a software update…okay?" Yao said, pushing the cord into Ivan's abdomen.

Ivan nodded. "What will be updated?"

Yao smiled. "You'll have more powerful emotions…increased anger…increased sadness….and increased shock..."

Ivan blinked. "Why are they all so negative sounding?"

"Oh, they aren't," Yao said, turning to the computer again. "They're only human…"

Ivan bit his lip. "It won't break my good feelings, will it?"

Yao rolled his eyes and looked over at Ivan, then the smirk fell from his face at Ivan's look of worry. "No, Ivan. Your good feelings will be fine. In fact, I'm trying to write up an update for your good feelings right now."

Pushing 'Enter', Yao cleared his throat. "I like dim sum."

Ivan blinked.

"And…my brother…and my parents…and my friends…"

Ivan closed his eyes. "Family?"

"Yes, my family," Yao said, watching the download bar. Ivan sighed. "I wish I had family…"

Yao smiled slightly. 'That's the sadness talking,' he thought.

"I tried to ask to make me a family once," Ivan smiled, though the smile was far less comforting and far more terrifying. "He refused…I wonder what he would do if something bad happened to him?"

Yao stared at Ivan for a moment. "That's…just the anger talking," he muttered. 'Maybe I shouldn't give him these emotions,' Yao thought. He held his hand over the "delete" button. Ivan looked over and looked worried again.

"Why are you doing that?"

"Hm?"

"You…want to delete me?" Ivan looked up at Yao, shocked. Yao sighed slightly and put his hand in his lap, folding his hands together and smiling. "No, Ivan. I was just making sure that, if the emotions showed themselves to be too strong, I could stop the process."

"Oh…"

The computer let off a small sound and Yao nodded. "Done." He pulled the cord back out and turned off the computer, pushing it off to the side. Hopping off of his chair, Yao grabbed a pen and made a few notes on the file referring to Ivan's comments. Ivan looked down at his open middle and blinked, poking at one of the wires. He yawned. "?"

"Hm?" Yao replied, putting the cover back into Ivan's middle and screwing it in.

"I think I'm running out of power…"

Yao looked up at Ivan. "Oh!" he yelped, scurrying to the cupboard and grabbing a bottle of vodka. He started to open it then stopped. Ivan closed up his middle and sat up. "Uh…do you…need a glass or something?" Yao asked as he walked up to Ivan, still looking around for a cup of some kind. Ivan grabbed the bottle and tore the lid off before shoving the top of it to his mouth, drinking greedily.

Yao's eyebrows rose. "Or that works too."

Ivan gulped it down and pulled the bottle from his lips. Yao blinked and took the bottle, throwing it away.

"?"

"Yes?"

"Could you…tell me about your family?" Ivan asked, a hopeful smile on his face.  
"I've just…never had one, and I want to know what it would be like."

Yao was about to answer when his phone let out a series of cute "meow" sounds. Going red, he dug into his pockets for his phone, and finally got to it. The screen said "NEW TEXT FROM: Arthur-Do not answer during or after Happy Hour." With a sigh, he looked at the inbox, then at Ivan. "Just one second, sorry," Yao muttered, glancing at the text.

"GET. HERE. NOW. HURRY. AGH!" it read. Yao sighed and looked at the clock.  
"Uhm, I am going to have to talk to you about that tomorrow," Yao replied, motioning for Ivan to lay down.

"Oh?"

"My…friend…he's not really my friend, but, anyway, he's asking for me and my shift's up anyway," Yao said. Ivan smiled, disappointed. "Oh…"

Yao grinned in reply. "But you got new and improved emotions—that's good, right?"

"Da," Ivan muttered.

"Well…good night, Ivan," Yao said, reaching for the off button. Ivan nodded and closed his eyes. "Good night, ."

Yao pushed the off button and sighed heavily before looking at his phone again and rolling his eyes. 

* * *

"I came as fast as I could," Yao panted as he ran into the bar. "What's wrong?"

Alfred looked over and groaned. "You called HIM?" he called to the back.

"Texted, but thanks. I feel so welcome here," Yao muttered. "You still owe me twenty dollars…"

"That's why I didn't want him to call you—ARTIE!"

Arthur came out from the back, with an uncharacteristic grin on his face.

Yao's eyes narrowed. "Who died?"

"No one. I got something amazing," Arthur said, almost too quickly to understand. He ran to the corner of the room where a conspicuously shaped…thing was covered by a sheet. Arthur grabbed onto the sheet and turned dramatically to Yao. "Ready?"

Without waiting for an answer, he pulled the sheet off of the object.  
Yao blinked.

"It's a chair," he said.

Arthur grinned. "Not just ANY chair!"

Yao walked over to it and looked at it, tilting his head to the side. After opening his mouth a few times, he snorted and said, "No, I'm pretty sure it's just a chair."

Alfred hopped behind the bar and grabbed a beer. Arthur sighed. "It's….Busby's Chair," he said, eyes shining. Alfred and Yao both gave him a disinterested look. Arthur cleared his throat. "All right," he said. "So it's….a replica of the chair."

Yao tapped it. "A cheap replica?"

Alfred laughed and opened his beer. "Nowhere NEAR cheap," he muttered, taking a swig.

"You didn't seem to mind spending a truckload of money on that ridiculous scale model of Captain America," Arthur snapped.

"That has way more sentimental value!"

"You bought a scale model of Captain America?" Yao asked, amused.

"You have a Hello Kitty suit in your closet, so you have no say here," Alfred said, smirking.

"I…most certainly do not," Yao laughed nervously. "You're…stupid. I'm the manliest man in this room, right now."

"Keep telling yourself that, dude," Alfred replied.

Arthur gazed at the chair lovingly. "I think I might put it on display…just under my English flag," he mused, pointing to the flag on the other side of the room.

"It's a chair," Yao said again.

"IT'S BUSBY'S CHAIR! ALFRED! TELL HIM WHAT BUSBY'S CHAIR IS!" Arthur cried, crossing his arms and staring down Yao.

Alfred looked between the two and took another swig of his beer. "Why would I know?"

Arthur spluttered. "You…are a history major!"

Alfred was in mid swig and he made a small noise, holding his finger up. After swallowing, he said, "U.S. History. Not English."

Arthur seethed. "And here I thought you might have some consideration for my culture."

"Good beer and bad food?"

Arthur seethed more. Yao looked awkwardly at the chair. "Uh…why don't YOU tell me?"

Arthur stopped seething and looked at the chair again. "Busby's chair," he began. He stopped and looked up at the light. "Alfred, mood lighting please."

Alfred went to the switch. "Which setting?"

"Poetry Readings, Religious Rituals, and Witchcraft Meetings."

"That's so fucking creepy," Alfred muttered.

"Shut up, it is not."

The lights came down and Yao looked around. Arthur and the chair became doused in spotlight.

"Busby's chair," he said again. "Thomas Busby was hanged for murder…and this chair—"

"CHEAP KNOCK OFF," interrupted Alfred.

"SHUT UP, I'M TELLING THE STORY, YOU TWIT!...ahem…this chair…was his favorite chair. Before he was hanged, he put a curse upon it," Arthur looked creepily at Yao, who looked at Alfred for help.

"Anyone who sat in the chair…DIED…so that's why I wanted it."

"You want to kill people?" Alfred asked, turning the lights back on.

"I want people to THINK I can," Arthur replied, moving the chair under the English flag. "Maybe then people will tip me. You'll make them tip, won't you? Won't you, Busby's chair?"

"My boyfriend's going to leave me for a chair," Alfred muttered.

"Better than a Frenchman," Arthur snapped back.

"FOR THE LAST TIME, THAT WASN'T ME!"

"Okay, so if this is REALLY all I left work for, I'm going to go," Yao said quickly, sneaking out the door as the American and the Englishman continued to argue. With a small smile and a chuckle, Yao closed the door to the bar and walked down the street.


End file.
